


Ivory and Gold

by havisham



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: M/M, Resolved Sexual Tension, Swimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-26
Updated: 2012-11-26
Packaged: 2017-11-19 14:21:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/574186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havisham/pseuds/havisham
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They went swimming together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ivory and Gold

**Author's Note:**

> Possible **underage**? I’d hazard to guess that Edmund is in his mid-to-late teens, and Caspian in his late-teens, early-twenties. Of course, Edmund has been through all of this rubbish before. (It doesn’t get any easier the second time.)

The sun beat relentlessly at their backs, and they had no other choice but to take the shortest route to the river and begin to strip off their clothes. Well, Caspian’s clothes, which Edmund also wore. The tunics were too broad at the shoulders, for him, and the breeches not narrow enough at the hips. The cuffs on the wrists and ankles were loose. Lucy and Reepicheep had already come and gone, leaving behind a grey ship’s blanket for them, laid out neatly upon the stony ground. 

Under a tree nearby, slept Rhince, who was their guard. 

“Such slackness would never stand, in my day,” Edmund said pompously, and got a poke in the ribs for his troubles. They raced to the water and plunged in, and then it was impossible to think of anything else besides cold water against hot skin. The water was a churning blue, the color of the sky. It pushed out all thoughts of grey and drizzling England, replacing it with the hot sun and cold water, and stone underneath it. His feet touched the bottom of the pool and then he drifted off, floating face-up to the sky. Caspian cut through the water expertly, visible only now and then. 

Edmund let himself sink under the surface, and opened his eyes to see the dapple of sunlight in the water and Caspian’s face looming above his, broken into a huge smile. They both broke through at the same time, shouting and splashing at each other. 

It was nothing like swimming exercises at school; the water, for one, was sweet here, and tasted nothing like chlorine. And Caspian was unlike a schoolboy in every way that one could care to imagine, Edmund thought, as he watched him from the corner of his eye. 

They had waddled out of the water by this time, and thrown themselves onto the blanket, fighting for space to stretch out until they had to be content with lying skin to skin, side-by-side. 

“I dreamed this, you know,” Caspian said, and Edmund, already half-asleep, blinked at this, the sunlight dazzling his eyes. 

“Dreamed what?” He sat up and stretched, feeling sore already. Caspian still lay supine, compact muscles and brown skin stretched over them, well knit together and strong. His hair had dried to a curly, golden halo around his head, and his face and hands were dusted with light freckles. Edmund watched in fascination at the gleam of golden stubble on his face, the light dusting of hair on his body, a line from his stomach to his...

(Edmund felt more skinny, and more pale, than he had ever thought possible.)

“They advised me to forget, not to hope for any of you again. What happened with my uncle was an Aslan-given miracle, I could not expect it to have it happen again.” 

“And yet you did not seem surprised to fish us out of the sea,” Edmund said, and then amended, “perhaps you were surprised to see Eustace.” 

“I dreamed that I would see you again --- though not, I grant, Eustace.” 

“Poor Eustace. He is trying, though it’s hard to know what to do with him, now that he’s a dragon.” He paused. _Now that he’s a dragon._ Pushing that aside, how impossible all of this was, he went on, “I suppose you were hoping to see Susan again? Everyone does.”

“We will figure something out,” Caspian said, confidentially, sitting up as well. “And not just Susan.” And he leaned forward and kissed Edmund. 

If Edmund was Susan, now he would have blushed prettily and laughed. If he was Peter, he would have grown pale and a little stern. But because he was, and could only ever be, Edmund, he flushed lobster-red and began to breath loudly, little shocked gasps. 

Caspian said, his bright blue eyes downcast, “In Cair Paravel, I have your rooms, did you know? My advisors said to take the High King’s rooms, but yours had the better view of the sea.” 

“Of course they do,” Edmund said, “I designed it that way.” They had rebuilt the castle as they had liked and Edmund was always the one who had the keenest eye for the details. But, really were they going to talk about _that_ and not --? 

He remembered some lines from a book he had once read -- _the world is changed because you are made of ivory and gold. The curves of your lips rewrite history._ There were times, Edmund knew this about himself, that he could be almost idiotically romantic. He did try not to be. 

He leaned in to kiss Caspian, just as Caspian moved toward him. They bumped noses and cheeks together, laughed a little. “Your highness,” Edmund said gravely, asking permission to commit lese-majesty, perhaps, and Caspian dipped his head down with a slight smile, and said, “Your highness,” granting it.

There was the scrape of Caspian’s stubble against Edmund’s lips, the taste of the water and the fruit they had had for breakfast that day, and the taste of Caspian. He ran a cautious hand down the flat of Caspian’s stomach, reached further down. A few quick pulls, and Caspian came in his hand, his face flushed and hot. Edmund knew that it wasn’t the done thing, to laugh now, but he did, he couldn’t help it. Caspian took his revenge quickly enough, bringing Edmund flat to the ground, the rocks underneath the blanket scraping against his back, and Caspian’s legs, Caspian’s arms, holding him down. 

“Laugh, will you?” Caspian said, puckering his mouth, and Edmund’s laughter became gasps soon enough. The curve of Caspian’s mouth may not rewrite the whole of history, but it brought forth more than a few startled sentences from Edmund. He sank bonelessly into a daze, the heat of the sun tempered somewhat now by a cool breeze from sea, salty and brisk. Dazed, he looked to the rocky cliffs above their heads, and thought he saw a flash of something familiar, of Aslan-gold. 

A small spray of pebbles rained down, clattering on the scree below. Edmund pushed against Caspian’s shoulder and he looked up, turning his head to where Edmund was staring. “What? What is it?” He said, hastily wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“I thought I saw...” A brown goat peeked his head from the crags, and gave a distant bleat. 

“So I see,” Caspian said, getting up, and helping Edmund up. They cleaned up quickly and dressed again, shivering as the wind began to pick up and became cold. The sun had already began to dip down behind the mountains, and the shadows grew long. 

Edmund’s stomach gave an uncomfortable rumble, and hearing it, Caspian gave a short laugh. He jogged up to Rhince and said, loudly, “Wait up, sluggard! King Edmund wishes for some nourishment, and I must say, so do I.” 

Rhince blinked, and muttered something about dinner, and they made their way to the beach, where Eustace was curled up, gently breathing fire on pile of wood. Lucy spotted them first and gave a shout. “Oh, you’ve been gone ages! Reep thought we would have to send out a search party for you soon.” 

“We were only swimming, Lu,” said Edmund, when it was clear that she expected an answer. 

Thoughtfully, she touched his sleeve. “You’re bone-dry now.” 

Over the heads of the milling sailors, Caspian caught his eye and winked at him. Edmund flushed, and turned back to Lucy. “What are we having? I’m starved.”

**Author's Note:**

> Written for **realpestilence**.
> 
> Thank you, **alexi_lupin** for beta-ing!


End file.
